More stories

  • in

    DeSantis’s Electability Pitch Wobbles, Despite G.O.P. Losses Under Trump

    The former president’s rivals are seeking to tap into Republican frustration with recent election disappointments to urge a new face for the party in 2024, but it is proving to be a tough sell.Ron DeSantis knows the statistics by heart.He ticks them off as he contrasts his sweeping re-election as Florida governor with Republican losses nationwide last fall: a flip of traditionally “very blue” Miami-Dade County; the narrowness of his 2018 victory versus his landslide in 2022; the remarkable Republican voter registration gains in the state on his watch.“There is no substitute for victory,” Mr. DeSantis said last week during his first trip to New Hampshire in his still-undeclared presidential bid. He denounced the “culture of losing” that he said had engulfed Republicans in recent years, swiping at Donald J. Trump in all but name.“If the election of 2024 is a referendum on Joe Biden and his failed policies — and we provide a fresh vision for American renewal — Republicans will win the White House, the House and the U.S. Senate,” he told the crowd. “So we cannot get distracted, and we cannot afford to lose, because freedom is hanging in the balance.”Electability has emerged as one of the early pressure points in the 2024 Republican presidential primary.That amorphous, ill-defined, eye-of-the-beholder intangible — the sense of whether voters believe a politician can actually win — was supposed to be one of Mr. DeSantis’s strengths, tapping into the genuine Republican frustration with years of ballot box disappointments to urge a new face for the party in 2024. Republicans lost with Mr. Trump, the argument goes, but can win with Mr. DeSantis.But there are growing questions about Mr. DeSantis’s own ability to win over the independent and suburban voters who delivered the White House to President Biden, and whether the hard-line stances the governor has taken, including on abortion, will repel the very voters he promises to win back. His feuding with Disney — including an offhand remark this week suggesting he would put a state prison next to Disney World — has raised alarms, even among would-be allies.For years, electability has been the fool’s gold of Republican politics.Since the rise of the Tea Party more than a decade ago, Republican primary voters have consistently cast ballots with their hearts, sneering at so-called experts to select uncompromising hard-liners as nominees. Even as losses in winnable races have mounted, the mere perception of running as electable has repeatedly backfired, giving off for many Republicans the stench of the reviled establishment.Core to Mr. DeSantis’s particular electability pitch is that he won in Florida despite not shifting to the middle.Scott McIntyre for The New York Times“It has sounded like an excuse to get conservative voters to support somebody they don’t really want, even though the argument may very well be true,” said Whit Ayres, a veteran Republican pollster. Citing G.O.P. losses while Mr. Trump has defined the party — in 2018, 2020, 2021 and 2022 — Mr. Ayres added of the former president and the G.O.P. 2024 front-runner, “There is no education in the fifth kick of a mule, and yet it appears that’s where we’re headed.”For Mr. Trump’s rivals, hitting him as an electoral loser is central to chiseling away at the crucial bloc of voters who liked his presidency but might be willing to move on. It also allows them to create contrast without directly crossing him; Nikki Haley, for instance, talks about the need for a “new generation” to win.Core to Mr. DeSantis’s particular electability pitch is that he won in Florida despite not tacking to the middle: that voters, in other words, can have both a fighter and a winner.But his recent signing of a six-week abortion ban puts him on the far right on an issue that Democrats have used to mobilize their base with great success since Roe v. Wade was overturned. And congressional Republicans, who have had a front-row seat to the party’s Trump-era struggles, have pointedly delivered far more endorsements to Mr. Trump, including from Mr. DeSantis’s home state delegation during his visit to Washington this week, in a sign of the governor’s slipping traction.Mr. Trump’s team has pushed an electability case against Mr. DeSantis. A Trump-allied super PAC has run ads warning that Mr. DeSantis would go after Social Security and Medicare, touchstone issues that Democrats have used to defeat Republicans nationwide.“If anyone thinks throwing seniors under the bus is a winning argument, they are seriously out of touch,” said Steven Cheung, a Trump spokesman. “There is only one electable candidate in 2024, and that is President Trump.”The DeSantis team did not respond to a request for comment.Sarah Longwell, a Republican who holds regular focus groups with G.O.P. voters, said in the immediate aftermath of the 2022 midterm losses, many Republicans had come to view Mr. Trump as an electoral loser.“Baggage is the word you’d hear,” she said.Mr. DeSantis was the beneficiary, rising as voters looked for a less polarizing alternative. “Trump with a mute button,” one voter memorably described a dream Republican candidate, she recalled.Vivek Ramaswamy, a former biotechnology executive, said the belief that electability would carry the day in 2024 was “somewhere between a wish and a mirage.”Haiyun Jiang/The New York TimesThat trend, however, has dissipated of late, said Ms. Longwell, who is involved with several groups that oppose Mr. Trump.“The electability pitch really only works if there is lots and lots of polling showing Trump losing by a wide margin,” she said. In a 50-50 nation, Mr. Trump remains competitive with Mr. Biden in almost every public poll, even if Mr. DeSantis often performs marginally better.Then there are the known unknowns of 2024 for Republican voters. If Mr. Trump loses the primary, would he sabotage the winner? And what would be the impact of further potential criminal indictments?Vivek Ramaswamy, a former biotechnology executive running a long-shot Republican presidential campaign, said the belief that electability would carry the day in 2024 was “somewhere between a wish and a mirage.”“It is fatally hubristic for anybody to think they can run that math equation,” Mr. Ramaswamy said in an interview aboard his campaign bus, adding that whoever was strongest would shift with debates and world events in the coming months.Mr. Trump’s pundit-defying victory in 2016 has uniquely inoculated him from charges that he cannot win. And as Mr. Trump’s rivals in 2016 learned — like when Jeb Bush called him the “chaos candidate” — it can be especially hard to press a case about electability when trailing badly in the polls, as Mr. DeSantis does now.In interviews, Trump supporters note that he only narrowly lost in 2020 despite a pandemic that crippled American life for months, circumstances that almost certainly won’t repeat. For all the turbulence Mr. Trump creates, they say he has been tested on the national stage in a way his opponents have not.The who-can-win debate plays out strikingly differently between the two parties. In 2020, Democratic primary voters obsessed over electability before nominating Mr. Biden, who made his strength against Mr. Trump a centerpiece of his candidacy.In New Hampshire, interviews with Republican voters, activists and party officials revealed both the fertile ground for and the challenges of any electability campaign against Mr. Trump. Mr. DeSantis arrived in the state for his first appearance on Friday, headlining a dinner for the state party that the chairman said had broken fund-raising records. More than 500 people attended, arriving from across New Hampshire and beyond, as Trump loyalists waved flags outside the downtown Manchester hotel.“If I had a magic wand, I would like Trump,” said Sue Higgins, 53, a dental hygienist from Belknap County, a conservative stronghold in central New Hampshire. “He’s the only person who has the chutzpah to save America. But I’m not sure he’s the most electable.” As she waited for Mr. DeSantis to speak, she said she might support Mr. Trump again anyway.Trump supporters at the annual Conservative Political Action Conference this year.Haiyun Jiang/The New York TimesAllison Chaffee, 36, who drove up two hours from Massachusetts to see Mr. DeSantis, described herself as an emissary “from the group that sways elections: suburban moms.” And her message was to move on.“I hear what the moms say,” she said. “They are speaking Republican and then they vote Democrat. They only just hate Trump.”But Lynda Payette, 68, of Bethlehem, N.H., waved away any talk of Mr. Trump’s vulnerabilities. “I believe that God placed him there and no man is going to take him down,” she said. “He’s electable, same as 2015.”Then she turned the electability question on Mr. DeSantis, pointing to his decision to sign a six-week abortion ban, which she called extreme. “I really think we’ve got to give a little on this abortion thing,” she said, as a friend nodded in agreement.For the sizable faction of the G.O.P. that has swallowed Mr. Trump’s falsehood that the 2020 election was stolen, electability is a particularly moot argument. They don’t think he lost.If an anti-Trump electability message were to gain ground anywhere, it might be New Hampshire, where multiple competitive seats were fumbled away in 2022 by Republican candidates whom party leaders had warned were out of the mainstream, including in a marquee Senate race.The state’s governor, Chris Sununu, who has teased a possible 2024 bid of his own, warned that Don Bolduc, the Republican who ran for Senate in New Hampshire, was a “conspiracy-theory type” candidate who would lose. Mr. Bolduc won the primary and lost in November.“What I hear from some of our activists is we’re tired of losing,” said Christopher Ager, who took over the chairmanship of the New Hampshire Republican Party in a contested fight.Fergus Cullen, a former New Hampshire Republican Party chairman, is less sanguine. He is the lone elected Republican on the City Council in Dover, where he needs to win over Democratic voters in a ward carried by Mr. Biden.“I don’t see any signs of pragmatic, strategic voting among primary voters,” said Mr. Cullen, a critic of Mr. Trump. “I fully believe he has the ability to get the lemmings to follow him off the cliff again, no matter how far down it goes.” More

  • in

    Cómo hacer que Trump desaparezca

    Después de llevar más de tres décadas dentro y alrededor de la política, ahora dedico la mayor parte de mi tiempo a lidiar con preguntas políticas en las aulas y en grupos de enfoque. Hay un enigma que me fascina más que los demás: ¿por qué Donald Trump sigue suscitando tanta lealtad y devoción? Y, a diferencia de 2016, ¿puede ganar la candidatura en 2024 un republicano distinto que comparta en gran medida la agenda de Trump, pero no su personalidad?Para responder a estas preguntas, he organizado más de 12 grupos de enfoque con votantes de Trump de todo Estados Unidos; el más reciente fue para Straight Arrow News, el miércoles de la semana pasada por la noche, para entender su mentalidad tras la histórica imputación del expresidente en Manhattan. Muchos se sentían ignorados y olvidados por la clase política profesional antes de Trump, y ahora victimizados y ridiculizados por simpatizar con él. Al igual que los votantes en las primarias republicanas en todo el país, los participantes en los grupos de enfoque siguen respetándolo, la mayoría sigue creyendo en él, casi todos piensan que les robaron las elecciones de 2020 y la mitad sigue queriendo que vuelva a presentarse en 2024.Sin embargo, hay una posible vía para otros aspirantes republicanos a la presidencia.Empieza con una reflexión más detenida sobre sobre las reglas que incumplió y los paradigmas que destruyó Trump en su campaña de 2016, y sobre todos sus errores voluntarios desde entonces. Es un fiel reflejo de los cambios de actitud y económicos que se han producido en Estados Unidos en los últimos 8 años. Y requiere aceptar que vapulearlo e intentar diezmar su base no va a funcionar. Los votantes de Trump están prestando la máxima atención a todos los candidatos. Si creen que la misión de un candidato es derrotar al que consideran su héroe, ese candidato fracasará. Sin embargo, si alguien que aspira a ser candidato o candidata en 2024 los convence de que quiere escucharlos y aprender de ellos, le darán una oportunidad. Marco Rubio y Ted Cruz no entendieron esta dinámica cuando atacaron a Trump en 2016, y por eso fracasaron.De modo que podemos considerar esto un manual de estrategia para los posibles candidatos republicanos, para los votantes de su partido y para los conservadores independientes que quieren a alguien distinto de Trump en 2024; una hoja de ruta estratégica basada en la experiencia con los partidarios de Trump durante los últimos 8 años. Esto es lo que he aprendido de estos grupos de enfoque e investigación.En primer lugar, para vencer a Trump hace falta humildad. Y empieza con reconocer que no puedes ganarte a todos los votantes. No puedes ganarte ni siquiera a la mitad: el apoyo a Trump dentro del Partido Republicano no solo es amplio, sino también profundo. Pero he descubierto, basándome en mis grupos de enfoque desde 2015, que alrededor de un tercio de los votantes de Trump dan prioridad al carácter del país y a las personas que lo dirigen, y eso basta para cambiar el resultado en 2024. No se trata de vencer a Trump compitiendo ideológicamente con él. Se trata de ofrecer a los republicanos el contraste que buscan: un candidato que defienda su agenda, pero con decencia, civismo y un compromiso con la responsabilidad personal y la rendición de cuentas.En segundo lugar, Trump se ha convertido en su propia versión del tan odiado establishment político. Mar-a-Lago se ha convertido en la Grand Central Terminal de los políticos, militantes acérrimos, lobistas y élites desfasadas que han ignorado, olvidado y traicionado al pueblo que representan. Peor aún, con la incesante recaudación de fondos, dirigida a menudo a las personas que menos pueden permitirse donar, Trump se ha convertido en un político profesional que refleja el sistema político para cuya destrucción fue elegido. Durante más de siete años, ha utilizado las mismas consignas, las mismas arengas, las mismas bromas y los mismos lemas. A algunos votantes de Trump les parece bien así. Pero hay una clara forma de atraer a otros votantes republicanos firmemente centrados en el futuro, en vez de volver a litigar por el pasado. Comienza con un simple discurso de campaña en esta línea, más o menos: “Podemos hacerlo mejor. Debemos hacerlo mejor”.En tercer lugar, sé consciente de que el agricultor medio, el pequeño empresario o el veterano de guerra tendrán más peso para el votante de Trump que los famosos y los poderosos. Los avales o los anuncios de campaña de los miembros del Congreso generarán menos apoyos que los testimonios emocionales de personas que, como a muchos partidarios de Trump, les hicieron caer, se levantaron y ahora están ayudando a otras a hacer lo mismo. Solo tienen que ser auténticos —y poder decir que votaron a Trump en 2016 y en 2020— para que no se les pueda pegar la etiqueta del movimiento “Nunca Trump”. Su mejor mensaje: el Trump de hoy no es el Trump de 2015. Con otras palabras: “Donald Trump me respaldó en 2016. Ahora, todo gira en torno a él. Yo no abandoné a Donald Trump. Él me abandonó a mí”.En cuarto lugar, elogia la presidencia de Trump, pero al mismo tiempo critica a la persona. Los grupos de enfoque sobre Trump son increíblemente instructivos para ayudar a diferenciar entre el apasionado apoyo que sus iniciativas y sus logros inspiran a la mayoría de sus votantes y la vergüenza y la frustración que les provocan sus comentarios y su conducta. Por ejemplo, a la mayoría de los republicanos les gusta su discurso duro sobre China, pero les desagrada su actitud intimidatoria en el ámbito nacional. Así que aplaude a su gobierno antes de criticar al hombre: “Donald Trump fue un gran presidente, pero no siempre fue un gran modelo a seguir. Hoy, más que nunca, necesitamos carácter, no solo valor. No tenemos que insultar a la gente para plantear un argumento o marcar la diferencia”.En quinto lugar, enfócate más en los nietos. Millones de votantes de Trump son personas mayores, muy mayores. Adoran a sus nietos, así que habla concretamente de ellos, y sus abuelos también te escucharán: “Confundimos la altisonancia con el liderazgo, la condena con el compromiso. Los valores que enseñamos a nuestros hijos deberían ser los que veamos en nuestro presidente”.La inminente votación sobre el techo de deuda es el gancho perfecto. El aumento del déficit anual con Trump es el tercero mayor, en relación con el tamaño de la economía, de cualquier gestión presidencial estadounidense. Mucho antes de la COVID-19, la Casa Blanca de Trump les dijo a los congresistas republicanos que gastaran más, y ese gasto contribuyó a la actual crisis de deuda. Trump dirá que actuó con responsabilidad fiscal, pero los números no mienten. “No podemos permitirnos estos déficits. No podemos permitirnos esta deuda. No podemos permitirnos a Donald Trump”.En sexto lugar, hay un rasgo de la personalidad sobre el que coinciden casi todos: la aversión a la imagen pía que se da en público mientras en privado se hace gala de la falta de honradez. En una palabra: la hipocresía. Hasta ahora, eso no les ha funcionado a los adversarios de Trump, pero eso es porque los ejemplos no tenían ninguna relevancia personal para sus votantes. Durante su campaña de 2016, Trump criticó a Barack Obama varias veces por sus ocasionales rondas de golf, y prometió no viajar a costa de los contribuyentes. ¿Cuál fue el historial de Trump? Cerca de 300 rondas de golf en sus propios campos en solo cuatro años, que costaron a los esforzados contribuyentes unos 150 millones de dólares en seguridad adicional. Esto quizá parezca una nimiedad, pero si se lleva al escenario del debate, puede ser letal. “Mientras más de la mitad de Estados Unidos gana lo justo para vivir al día, él estaba practicando su juego corto. Y ustedes lo pagaron”.En séptimo lugar, no saldrás elegido solo con los votos de los republicanos. El candidato exitoso deberá atraer también a los independientes. En 2016, Trump prometió a sus votantes que se cansarían de ganar. Pero alejó a los independientes hasta el punto de que abandonaron a los republicanos y se unieron a los demócratas, dándole a Estados Unidos a Nancy Pelosi como presidenta de la Cámara de Representantes en 2018, a Biden como presidente en 2020 y a Charles Schumer como líder de la mayoría en el Senado también en 2020. Un solo escaño en el Senado en 2020 habría paralizado por completo la agenda demócrata. La mayoría de los candidatos avalados por Trump en las reñidas elecciones de mitad de mandato de 2022 perdieron, algo que pocas personas (incluido yo) se esperaban. Si Trump es el candidato en 2024, ¿están seguros los republicanos de que se ganará esta vez a los independientes? Seguramente el expresidente perderá si los republicanos creen que un voto por Trump en las primarias significa que Biden ganará en las generales.Y, en octavo lugar, tienes que penetrar en la caja de resonancia conservadora. Necesitas al menos a una de estas personas de tu parte: Mark Levin, Dennis Prager, Ben Shapiro, Newt Gingrich y, por supuesto, Tucker Carlson, Sean Hannity y Laura Ingraham. Gracias a la demanda de Dominion, todos sabemos qué dicen los presentadores de Fox News en privado. El reto es conseguir que sean igual de sinceros en público. Eso requiere un candidato tan duro como Trump, pero más comprometido públicamente con la ideología conservadora tradicional, como acabar con el despilfarro de Washington y la capacidad de sacar el trabajo adelante. “Algunas personas quieren hacer una declaración. Yo quiero hacer un cambio”.Entre los probables rivales republicanos de Trump que aspiran a la candidatura, nadie está cerca aún de hacer todas estas cosas, o alguna de ellas. Ron DeSantis solo ha criticado suavemente a Trump, y ha preferido lanzar un ataque total contra Disney. No pasa nada. Tiene tiempo de sobra para poner orden en sus mensajes. Pero cuando él y sus compañeros se suban al escenario del primer debate republicano, en agosto, tendrán una sola oportunidad para mostrar que merecen el puesto al demostrar que entienden al votante de Trump.Para ser claros, si Trump se presenta con una campaña exclusivamente basada en su hoja de servicios en el gobierno, probablemente gane la candidatura. Hasta ahora, ha demostrado ser incapaz de hacerlo. La mayoría de los republicanos aplauden sus éxitos en materia de economía y política exterior, y su impacto en la burocracia y el poder judicial, sobre todo en comparación con su predecesor y ahora su sucesor.Pero ese no es el Donald Trump de 2023. Muchos dejan de celebrarlo cuando se les pide que evalúen las declaraciones públicas de Trump y su conducta, que sigue manteniendo. En 2016, la campaña consistía en lo que Trump podía hacer por ti. Hoy, consiste en lo que se le está haciendo a él. Si se desquicia cada vez más, o si sus oponentes se centran en sus tuits, sus arrebatos y su personalidad destructiva, un considerable número de republicanos podría elegir a otra persona, siempre y cuando den prioridad a asuntos básicos y de eficacia probada, como unos impuestos más bajos, una menor regulación y menos Washington.Los republicanos quieren casi todo lo que hizo Trump, sin todo lo que Trump es y dice.Frank Luntz es moderador de grupos de enfoque, profesor y estratega de comunicación que trabajó para candidatos republicanos en elecciones anteriores. More

  • in

    How to Make Trump Go Away

    After more than three decades in and around politics, I now spend most of my time grappling with political questions in the classroom and in focus groups. There is one conundrum that fascinates me above others: Why does Donald Trump still generate such loyalty and devotion? And unlike 2016, can a different Republican win the nomination in 2024 who largely shares Mr. Trump’s agenda but not his personality?To answer these questions, I have hosted more than two dozen focus groups with Trump voters across the country, the most recent for Straight Arrow News on Wednesday night to understand their mind-sets in the aftermath of his historic indictment in Manhattan. Many felt ignored and forgotten by the professional political class before Mr. Trump, and victimized and ridiculed for liking him now. Like Republican primary voters nationwide, the focus group participants still respect him, most still believe in him, a majority think the 2020 election was stolen, and half still want him to run again in 2024.But there is a way forward for other Republican presidential contenders as well.It begins by reflecting more closely on Mr. Trump’s rule-breaking, paradigm-shattering campaign in 2016 and all of his unforced errors since then. It accurately reflects the significant attitudinal and economic changes in America over the past eight years. And it requires an acceptance that pummeling him and attempting to decimate his base will not work. Trump voters are paying laserlike attention to all the candidates. If they think a candidate’s mission is to defeat their hero, the candidate will fail. But if a 2024 contender convinces them that he or she wants to listen to and learn from them, they’ll give that person a chance. Neither Marco Rubio or Ted Cruz understood this dynamic when they attacked Mr. Trump in 2016, and that’s why they failed.So consider this a playbook for potential Republican candidates and for G.O.P. voters and conservative independents wanting someone other than Mr. Trump in 2024, a strategic road map based on informed experiences with Trump voters for the past eight years. This is what I’ve learned from these focus groups and research.First, beating Mr. Trump requires humility. It starts by recognizing that you can’t win every voter. You can’t win even half of them: Mr. Trump’s support within the Republican Party isn’t just a mile wide, it’s also a mile deep. But based on my focus groups since 2015, roughly a third of Trump voters prioritize the character of the country and the people who run it — and that’s enough to change the 2024 outcome. It’s not about beating Mr. Trump with a competing ideology. It’s about offering Republicans the contrast they seek: a candidate who champions Mr. Trump’s agenda but with decency, civility and a commitment to personal responsibility and accountability.Second, Mr. Trump has become his own version of the much-hated political establishment. Mar-a-Lago has become Grand Central Terminal for politicians, political hacks, lobbyists, and out-of-touch elites who have ignored, forgotten and betrayed the people they represent. Worse yet, with incessant fund-raising, often targeting people who can least afford to give, Mr. Trump has become a professional politician reflecting the political system he was elected to destroy. For more than seven years, he has used the same lines, the same rallies, the same jokes and the same chants. That’s perfectly fine for some Trump voters. But there’s a clear way to appeal to other Republican voters firmly focused on the future rather than on re-litigating the past. It starts with a simple campaign pitch along these lines: “We can do better. We must do better.”Third, recognize that the average farmer, small business owner and veteran will hold greater sway with the Trump voter than the famous and the powerful. Having endorsements or campaign ads from members of Congress will generate less support than the emotional stories of people who, just like so many Trump supporters, were knocked down, got back up and are now helping others to do the same. They just need to be authentic — and be able to say that they have voted for Mr. Trump in 2016 and 2020 — so the Never Trump label won’t stick. Their best message: the Trump of today is not the Trump of 2015. In other words: “Donald Trump had my back in 2016. Now, it’s all about him. I didn’t leave Donald Trump. He left me.”Fourth, compliment Mr. Trump’s presidency while you criticize the person. Trump focus groups are incredibly instructive in helping differentiate between the passionate support most Trump voters feel for his efforts and his accomplishments and the embarrassment and frustration they have with his comments and his behavior. For example, most Republicans like his tough talk on China, but they dislike his bullying behavior here at home. So applaud the administration before you criticize the man. “Donald Trump was a great president, but he wasn’t always a great role model. Today, more than ever, we need character — not just courage. We don’t need to insult people to make a point, or make a difference.”Fifth, make it more about the grandchildren. Millions of Trump voters are old — really old. They love their grandchildren, so speak specifically about the grandkids and their grandparents will listen as well. “We mistake loud for leadership, condemnation for commitment. The values we teach our children should be the values we see in our president.”The looming debt ceiling vote is the perfect hook. The increase in the annual deficit under Trump ranks as the third-largest increase, relative to the size of the economy, of any U.S. presidential administration. Long before Covid, Republicans in Congress were told by the Trump White House to spend more — and that spending contributed to the current debt crisis. Mr. Trump will say he was fiscally responsible, but the actual numbers don’t lie. “We can’t afford these deficits. We can’t afford this debt. We can’t afford Donald Trump.”Sixth, there’s one character trait that unites just about everyone: an aversion to public piety while displaying private dishonesty. In a word, hypocrisy. Until now, that hasn’t worked for Trump’s opponents, but that’s because the examples weren’t personally relevant to Mr. Trump’s voters. During his 2016 campaign, Trump condemned Barack Obama repeatedly for his occasional rounds of golf, promising not to travel at taxpayer expense. What was Trump’s record? Close to 300 rounds of golf on his own personal courses in just four years, costing hardworking taxpayers roughly $150 million in additional security. This may sound minor, but delivered on the debate stage, it could be lethal. “While more than half of America was working paycheck to paycheck, he was working on his short game. And you paid for it!”Seventh, you won’t be elected with Republicans alone. The successful candidate must appeal to independents as well. In 2016, Mr. Trump promised his voters that they would get tired of winning. But he alienated independents to such a degree that they abandoned Republicans and joined Democrats, giving America Speaker Nancy Pelosi in 2018, President Biden in 2020, and Majority Leader Schumer in 2020. Just one Senate seat in 2020 would have brought the Democratic agenda to a complete halt. Most of Mr. Trump’s endorsements in highly contested races in 2022 lost in a midterms surprise that few people (including me) anticipated. If Mr. Trump is the nominee in 2024, are Republicans fully confident he will win independents this time? The ex-president surely loses if Republicans come to believe that a vote for Mr. Trump in the primaries means the election of Mr. Biden in the general.And eighth, you need to penetrate the conservative echo chamber. You need at least one of these on your side: Mark Levin, Dennis Prager, Ben Shapiro, Newt Gingrich and, of course, Tucker, Hannity or Laura. Thanks to the Dominion lawsuit, we all know what Fox News hosts say in private. The challenge is to get them to be as honest in public. That requires a candidate as tough as Mr. Trump, but more committed publicly to traditional conservative ideology like ending wasteful Washington spending — and the ability to get it done. “Some people want to make a statement. I want to make a difference.”Among the likely Republican rivals to Mr. Trump for the nomination, no one is coming close yet to doing some or all of this. Ron DeSantis has only mildly criticized Mr. Trump, preferring an all-out assault on Disney instead. No worries. He has plenty of time to get his messaging in order. But when he and his colleagues step onto the Republican debate stage in August, they will have but one opportunity to prove they deserve the job by proving they understand the Trump voter.To be clear, if Mr. Trump runs exclusively on his administration’s record, he probably wins the nomination. So far, he has proved himself incapable of doing so. Most Republicans applaud his economic and foreign policy successes and his impact on the bureaucracy and judiciary, particularly in comparison to his predecessor and now his successor.But that’s not the Donald Trump of 2023. The cheerleading stops for many when asked to evaluate Mr. Trump’s ongoing public comments and behavior. In 2016, the campaign was about what he could do for you. Today, it’s about what is being done to him. If he becomes increasingly unhinged, or if his opponents focus on his tweets, his outbursts and his destructive personality, a sizable number of Republicans could choose someone else, as long as they prioritize core, time-tested priorities like lower taxes, less regulation, and less Washington.Republicans want just about everything Mr. Trump did, without everything Mr. Trump is or says.Frank Luntz is a focus group moderator, pollster, professor and communications strategist who worked for Republican candidates in previous elections.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More

  • in

    South Carolina Democrats, Stung by String of Losses, Clash Over Next Leader

    A usually low-key race has taken on unusually high stakes as the party prepares to host the first primary of the 2024 campaign and seeks to reverse its recent misfortunes.COLUMBIA, S.C. — Representative James E. Clyburn of South Carolina, a longtime kingmaker in Democratic politics who helped resurrect President Biden’s 2020 presidential campaign, exercised his influence on Wednesday over a much smaller race far closer to home: the campaign to determine who will lead his state’s Democratic Party.Mr. Clyburn endorsed Christale Spain, a former party executive director who once worked in his South Carolina office and would be the first Black woman to lead the party if elected. His involvement underlines the larger-than-usual stakes of the three-candidate race, a contest that has often been a low-key, noncompetitive affair for a behind-the-scenes post.As Democrats in South Carolina recover from several damaging election cycles and stare down their debut as the party’s first presidential primary state, a once-in-a-generation campaign for state party chair has been brought to life, complete with the kind of glad-handing, fund-raising and mudslinging more often encountered in a congressional primary. At stake is who will prepare the party for the next election while staving off further down-ballot losses.The three candidates — the most in over 25 years — represent factions of the state’s Democratic base, from its grass-roots activists to high-powered operatives. Ms. Spain is widely viewed as the front-runner. But the same résumé that brought Mr. Clyburn to her camp has been fodder for some of her biggest critics, who say the party needs a major overhaul, not a return to the status quo they believe she would represent.More than 1,600 county delegates will vote for the chair at the end of the month at the annual state Democratic convention in Columbia. The winner, who will serve a two-year term, will be tasked with rebuilding an understaffed and underfunded state party while re-engaging key Democratic constituencies.The central question, however, is just what strategy the party will employ as it prepares for prime time.“We have an opportunity to stop the bleeding,” Ms. Spain said. “We could have this funding stream that comes in because of our new status. But if we muck it up, then what happens? Every cycle is a 2022 cycle? That’s our new normal forever? That’s the worst that can happen.”For many South Carolina Democrats, the 2022 midterm elections are burned in their memory, as party veterans lost a host of previously safe races from school boards to the State House, where Democrats ceded eight seats to Republicans — five of which had been held by Black women. The G.O.P. secured a supermajority for the first time since the Civil War era.“We have an opportunity to stop the bleeding,” Ms. Spain said.Sean Rayford for The New York TimesThe state party was too short on cash to support most of its candidates and did little to coordinate strategy with its nominee for governor, Joe Cunningham, who lost to the incumbent, Henry McMaster, by nearly 20 points. Paltry engagement with Black voters sank their turnout to the lowest in decades. Democratic officials largely faulted the party’s state leadership for the poor showing.“It was almost as if we just have lost our way, lost our direction,” said State Senator Vernon Jones, whose district covers five counties. “We don’t have the right message.”Against the backdrop of preparations for the 2024 primary, the newly prominent chair race has underscored Democrats’ competing messages for how to improve their standing in the state — via incremental steps to raise money and take back seats or through untested strategies the party has been reluctant to employ.Ms. Spain’s most formidable competitor is Brandon Upson, the chair of the state Democratic Party’s Black caucus, who is running as part of a four-person slate of candidates for party leadership posts. Catherine Fleming Bruce, an activist who fell short in the 2022 Democratic primary for U.S. Senate, is also running.The candidates have spent months crisscrossing the state, stumping at county party meetings and recruiting surrogates. Some Democratic groups are exploring the possibility of hosting a debate. Ms. Spain distributes mailers with her campaign message at every stop she makes. Mr. Upson’s slate has established an account on the political donation website ActBlue for its fund-raising. His message to delegates is simple: I’m tired of losing.“The same people have been running our party and handpicking our party chair for 25 years,” Mr. Upson said. “And if you look at the trend line for this party over the 25 years, we’ve been losing more and more every cycle.”Brandon Upson, who is challenging Ms. Spain for the Democratic Party leadership role, at a labor protest outside a Ryder trucking warehouse in Columbia, S.C.Maya King/The New York TimesThe state’s more enthusiastic Democrats have been clamoring for a way to win back seats and put South Carolina in play in the same way that Georgia, its neighbor to the west, has been. Ms. Spain has cautioned fellow Democrats against overplaying their hand, even in the face of the money and attention that voting first in 2024 might bring. Those kinds of inroads are made over several cycles, she said, and will require newer, bolder — and realistic — thinking.“We have to be strategic and responsible about what we’re doing,” Ms. Spain said at a recent meeting of Orangeburg County Democrats. “We have to establish our battlefield.”That battlefield makes up all 46 of South Carolina’s counties and the voters whom Democrats have failed to mobilize. Her main focus, she said, will be on winning back the State House seats the party lost in previous cycles and protecting the remaining safe seats. Then they can talk about unseating Republicans.Much of Ms. Spain’s stump speech focuses on her experience. She started at the state party as a volunteer and worked for the last three state chairs. In 2016, she joined Bernie Sanders’s presidential campaign team. After directing Cory Booker’s South Carolina operation in 2020, she coordinated Jaime Harrison’s U.S. Senate campaign with the state party. In 2022, she directed Black engagement for the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee. The departing state party chair, Trav Robertson, is also supporting her bid.On the other hand, Mr. Upson is aiming to harness grass-roots groups, young voters and political newcomers — a constituency that has grown in the state in recent years. Under his leadership, the state party’s Black caucus has expanded its membership, putting a healthy number of delegates in his corner.“That’s where my base of support is,” he said. “You’re not going to see it in James Clyburn’s office.”On Tuesday morning, Mr. Upson joined more than three dozen labor activists protesting working conditions at a factory outside Columbia. After sweating and chanting in the sun outside a Ryder trucking warehouse, he encouraged the crowd to think of the Democratic Party as a partner in their activism, not a bystander.“We have to remind ourselves that we are the people — and we have the power in our hands,” he told the group.Mr. Upson, an Army veteran, has focused much of his organizing work on engaging Black male voters in low-income communities — a part of his biography that he has also promoted in his campaign. In 2020, he was national organizing director for Tom Steyer, whose presidential bid injected millions into South Carolina and frustrated the leaders backing Mr. Biden, who claimed the billionaire was buying Black support. Mr. Upson vehemently denies those claims.But it was Mr. Upson’s work with a candidate for Charleston County Council that agitated even more Democrats. In 2022, he worked with a Republican, Joe Boykin, who unseated a Democratic county councilwoman, Anna Johnson. Both Mr. Boykin and Mr. Upson maintain that Mr. Upson’s involvement was limited to building Mr. Boykin’s campaign website. Still, his victory handed the balance of power on the council to Republicans and cemented a line of attack for Ms. Spain’s supporters.Catherine Fleming Bruce, who fell short in the 2022 Democratic primary for U.S. Senate, is running for the leadership post, as well.Meg Kinnard/Associated PressIn describing the state of the race, Mr. Clyburn paraphrased from the Bible: “They are not known by their words but their deeds.”“If somebody tells you they are a Democrat, and you look at what they’re doing and it’s all been to help Republicans, what am I supposed to believe about you?” he said.And for Ms. Spain, the messaging from her opponents echoes a familiar pattern she has observed in politics, of suspicions about qualified Black women in power. Or, worse, being brushed aside for opportunities with little reason.“Being a Black woman with a strong résumé for the role, people can turn that into a negative,” she said. “I’ve been doing the jobs that have been put in front of me. I’ve built the relationships that I’ve had an opportunity to build, not for any hidden agenda, but because I’m working with them.”Gilda Cobb-Hunter, an influential state lawmaker, is supporting Mr. Upson. She is encouraging delegates to pledge their allegiance to the candidate who, she said, is “not in the clique.”“This party has been run for too many years by cliques,” she said. “I want somebody who is interested in expanding the circle.”Ms. Cobb-Hunter, who is Black, recognized the historic implications of having a party led by a Black woman for the first time. However, she said, the determining factor in her decision came down to who she most believed could help Democrats in the state win elections again.“Politics, to me, is a business. It’s not personal. It’s about getting the job done,” she said. She later added, “Simply basing something on gender in and of itself is shortsighted, in my view.”Mr. Stephens, the state senator, announced at the Orangeburg County party meeting that after weeks of deliberation and conversations with all three candidates, he would support Ms. Spain. Fresh off a visit with Black Democrats in rural South Carolina, he said the next chair should be mindful of a shift he has observed in the electorate.“The citizens are taking things in their own hands,” he said. “They’re going to vet candidates. They’re no longer going to be told that ‘this is the individual you should be voting for.’ They are going to vote their conviction. South Carolina is changing.” More

  • in

    Republicans Face Setbacks in Push to Tighten Voting Laws on College Campuses

    Party officials across the country have sought to erect more barriers for young voters, who tilt heavily Democratic, after several cycles in which their turnout surged.Alarmed over young people increasingly proving to be a force for Democrats at the ballot box, Republican lawmakers in a number of states have been trying to enact new obstacles to voting for college students.In Idaho, Republicans used their power monopoly this month to ban student ID cards as a form of voter identification.But so far this year, the new Idaho law is one of few successes for Republicans targeting young voters.Attempts to cordon off out-of-state students from voting in their campus towns or to roll back preregistration for teenagers have failed in New Hampshire and Virginia. Even in Texas, where 2019 legislation shuttered early voting sites on many college campuses, a new proposal that would eliminate all college polling places seems to have an uncertain future.“When these ideas are first floated, people are aghast,” said Chad Dunn, the co-founder and legal director of the UCLA Voting Rights Project. But he cautioned that the lawmakers who sponsor such bills tend to bring them back over and over again.“Then, six, eight, 10 years later, these terrible ideas become law,” he said.Turnout in recent cycles has surged for young voters, who were energized by issues like abortion, climate change and the Trump presidency.They voted in rising numbers during the midterms last year in Kansas and Michigan, which both had referendums about abortion. And college students, who had long paid little attention to elections, emerged as a crucial voting bloc in the 2018 midterms.But even with such gains, Sean Morales-Doyle, director of the voting rights program for the Brennan Center for Justice, said there was still progress to be made.“Their turnout is still far outpaced by their older counterparts,” Mr. Morales-Doyle said.Now, with the 2024 presidential election underway, the battle over young voters has heightened significance.Between the 2018 and 2022 elections in Idaho, registration jumped 66 percent among 18- and 19-year-old voters, the largest increase in the nation, according to the Center for Information and Research on Civic Learning and Engagement. The nonpartisan research organization, based at Tufts University, focuses on youth civic engagement.Gov. Brad Little of Idaho gave his approval to a law that bans student ID cards as a form of voter identification.Kyle Green/Associated PressOut of 17 states that generally require voter ID, Idaho will join Texas and only four others — North Dakota, Ohio, South Carolina and Tennessee — that do not accept any student IDs, according to the Voting Rights Lab, a group that tracks legislation.Arizona and Wisconsin have rigid rules on student IDs that colleges and universities have struggled to meet, though some Wisconsin schools have been successful.Proponents of such restrictions often say they are needed to prevent voter fraud, even though instances of fraud are rare. Two lawsuits were filed in state and federal court shortly after Idaho’s Republican governor, Brad Little, signed the student ID prohibition into law on March 15. “The facts aren’t particularly persuasive if you’re just trying to get through all of these voter suppression bills,” Betsy McBride, the president of the League of Women Voters of Idaho, one of the plaintiffs in the state lawsuit, said before the bill’s signing.A fight over out-of-state students in New HampshireIn New Hampshire, which has one of the highest percentages in the nation of college students from out of state, G.O.P. lawmakers proposed a bill this year that would have barred voting access for those students, but it died in committee after failing to muster a single vote.Nearly 59 percent of students at traditional colleges in New Hampshire came from out of state in 2020, according to the Institute for Democracy and Higher Education at Tufts.The University of New Hampshire had opposed the legislation, while students and other critics had raised questions about its constitutionality.The bill, which would have required students to show their in-state tuition statements when registering to vote, would have even hampered New Hampshire residents attending private schools like Dartmouth College, which doesn’t have an in-state rate, said McKenzie St. Germain, the campaign director for the New Hampshire Campaign for Voting Rights, a nonpartisan voting rights group.Sandra Panek, one of the sponsors of the bill that died, said she would like to bring it back if she can get bipartisan support. “We want to encourage our young people to vote,” said Ms. Panek, who regularly tweets about election conspiracy theories. But, she added, elections should be reflective of “those who reside in the New Hampshire towns and who ultimately bear the consequences of the election results.”A Texas ban on campus polling places has made little headwayIn Texas, the Republican lawmaker who introduced the bill to eliminate all polling places on college campuses this year, Carrie Isaac, cited safety concerns and worries about political violence.Voting advocates see a different motive.“This is just the latest in a long line of attacks on young people’s right to vote in Texas,” said Claudia Yoli Ferla, the executive director of MOVE Texas Action Fund, a nonpartisan group that seeks to empower younger voters.Students at the University of Texas at Austin lined up to cast their ballots on campus during the 2020 primary. A new proposal would eliminate all college polling places in the state.Tamir Kalifa for The New York TimesMs. Isaac has also introduced similar legislation to eliminate polling places at primary and secondary schools. In an interview, she mentioned the May 2022 school shooting in Uvalde, Texas, where a gunman killed 19 children and two teachers — an attack that was not connected to voting.“Emotions run very high,” Ms. Isaac said. “Poll workers have complained about increased threats to their lives. It’s just not conducive, I believe, to being around children of all ages.”The legislation has been referred to the House Elections Committee, but has yet to receive a hearing in the Legislature. Voting rights experts have expressed skepticism that the bill — one of dozens related to voting introduced for this session — would advance.G.O.P. voting restrictions flounder in other statesIn Virginia, one Republican failed in her effort to repeal a state law that lets teenagers register to vote starting at age 16 if they will turn 18 in time for a general election. Part of a broader package of proposed election restrictions, the bill had no traction in the G.O.P.-controlled House, where it died this year in committee after no discussion.And in Wyoming, concerns about making voting harder on older people appears to have inadvertently helped younger voters. A G.O.P. bill that would have banned most college IDs from being used as voter identification was narrowly defeated in the state House because it also would have banned Medicare and Medicaid insurance cards as proof of identity at the polls, a provision that Republican lawmakers worried could be onerous for older people.“In my mind, all we’re doing is kind of hurting students and old people,” Dan Zwonitzer, a Republican lawmaker who voted against the bill, said during a House debate in February.But some barriers are already in placeGeorgia has accepted student IDs only from public colleges and universities since 2006, so students at private institutions, including several historically Black colleges and universities, must use another form of identification.Georgia has accepted student IDs only from public colleges and universities since 2006, a rule that means students at private institutions, like several historically Black colleges and universities, must use another form of identification. Gabriela Bhaskar for The New York TimesIn Ohio, which has for years not accepted student IDs for voting, Republicans in January approved a broader photo ID requirement that also bars students from using university account statements or utility bills for voting purposes, as they had in the past.The Idaho bill will take effect in January. Scott Herndon and Tina Lambert, the bill’s sponsors in the Senate and the House, did not respond to requests for comment, but Mr. Herndon said during a Feb. 24 session that student identification cards had lower vetting standards than those issued by the government.“It isn’t about voter fraud,” he said. “It’s just making sure that the people who show up to vote are who they say they are.”Republicans contended that nearly 99 percent of Idahoans had used their driver’s licenses to vote, but the bill’s opponents pointed out that not all students have driver’s licenses or passports — and that there is a cost associated with both.Mae Roos, a senior at Borah High School in Boise, testified against the bill at a Feb. 10 hearing.“When we’re taught from the very beginning, when we first start trying to participate, that voting is an expensive process, an arduous process, a process rife with barriers, we become disillusioned with that great dream of our democracy,” Ms. Roos said. “We start to believe that our voices are not valued.” More

  • in

    Where Asian Neighborhoods Increased Support of New York’s Republicans

    In last year’s governor’s election, voters in Asian neighborhoods across New York City sharply increased their support for Republicans. Though these areas remained blue overall, they shifted to the right by 23 percentage points, compared with 2018, after more than a decade of reliably backing Democrats. Governor’s margin of victory since 2006 Source: New York […] More

  • in

    The Woman Shaking Up Italian Politics (No, Not the New Prime Minister)

    Daughter of Italian and Jewish American parents, Elly Schlein wants to remake the center-left opposition to Giorgia Meloni, if only her party can survive it.ROME — Growing up in Switzerland, Elly Schlein felt a little lost.“I was the black sheep. Because my brother and sister seemed to be more sure of what they would do,” the politician recalled. She watched Italian neorealist cinema and American comedies, played Philip Glass on the piano, pet her dwarf bunny named after Freddie Mercury, listened to the Cranberries and ultimately got involved in her school’s politics. “It took a lot more time for me to find my way,” she said.Last weekend, Ms. Schlein, 37, found her way into the center of the debate about the future of the European left when she stunned the liberal establishment and reordered Italy’s political landscape by winning a primary election to become the first woman to lead the country’s center-left Democratic Party. She is promising, she said in her new office headquarters on Wednesday, to “change deeply” a party in the midst of an identity crisis.It is hard to embody change in Italy more than Ms. Schlein.A woman in a relationship with a woman, she is the daughter of a Jewish American father; granddaughter of an Italian antifascist partisan; proud native of Lugano, Switzerland; former volunteer for Barack Obama; collaborator on an award-winning documentary about Albanian refugees; fan of “Naked Gun” movies; shredder of Green Day chords on her electric guitar; and fervent progressive eager to make common international cause with “A.O.C.,” Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Democrat of New York.With her election, Ms. Schlein has catapulted Italy, which long seemed a Country for Old Men, into markedly different territory. A female opposition leader now is pitted against the first female prime minister, the right-wing nationalist Giorgia Meloni.Ms. Schlein grew up in Lugano, Switzerland, and described herself as the “black sheep” of her family. Andrea Wyner for The New York Times“It’s a different scenario now,” said Ms. Schlein, who had the professorial air of her professor parents as she leafed through newspapers. “And an interesting one, because I’ve always said that we don’t need just a female leadership. We need a feminist leadership.”The two women could hardly be more different. Ms. Meloni, who called Ms. Schlein to congratulate her, was raised by a single mother in a working-class neighborhood of Rome, was a youth activist in post-Fascist parties and came to prominence on an anti-migrant, Italy-first platform. Her battle cry: “I’m Giorgia, I’m a woman, I’m a mother, I’m a Christian!”Explore The Times’s Saturday ProfilesThey are shaping the world around them. These are their stories.Going Gray: The prominent news anchor Lisa LaFlamme was unceremoniously dismissed not long after she stopped dyeing her hair — setting off debates across Canada.Reclaiming His Voice: While on a rescue mission in Ukraine, an aspiring opera singer was shot in the lungs. His recovery is a marvel of medicine, chance and his own spirit.A Marxist Mayor: A Communist politician in Graz, Austria, wants to redistribute wealth. A focus on housing, her own modest lifestyle and a hard childhood have helped her popularity.Cleaning Up Senegal: Dressed head to toe in plastic, Modou Fall is a familiar sight in Dakar. His goal? Ridding the capital of the scourge of plastic bags.Princess Rita: A Texas rancher’s daughter landed a dream role as a Roman princess. A battle over the estate of her late husband has soured the reality.Ms. Schlein — who has Italian, Swiss and American passports — said she didn’t understand how being “a woman, a mother and a Christian helps Italians to pay their bills.” She added: “I am a woman. I love another woman. I am not a mother, but I am not less of a woman for this.”She argued that Ms. Meloni represented an ideology that viewed women merely for their reproductive and child-rearing roles. Ms. Meloni has “never described herself as an antifascist,” Ms. Schlein said, arguing that she instead threw red meat to her base with “inhuman” and “illegal” policies making it harder to save migrants at sea.Such liberal red meat is likely to sate the base of progressives and young voters that Ms. Schlein brought into the Democratic Party fold in last Sunday’s primary. But it did little for the left in the election Ms. Meloni won easily in September. Ms. Schlein’s party now has about half the support of Ms. Meloni’s.Moderate critics within Ms. Schlein’s own deeply divided party fear that she will fold its big tent by forfeiting the political center, driving the party to the far left, gutting it of its reputation for sober competence, and blending it with — or feeding it to — the reinvigorated, populist Five Star Movement.Supporters of Giorgia Meloni at a rally in September, in Rome. Ms. Schlein has criticized the prime minister for hurling red meat to her base with “inhuman” and “illegal” policies on migrants.Gianni Cipriano for The New York TimesBut Ms. Schlein is not convinced that denizens of an Italian middle even exist. “Where are they today?” she asked in her perfect English, noting that “when somebody had tried to represent them with new political options, it never went really well.” Instead, she saw the way forward as making “clear who we want to represent” — struggling Italians.She said she would spread “environmentalist and feminist” solutions to endemic Italian problems such as female unemployment and inequality in “clearly a patriarchal country.” She would make amends for “the mistakes made in the past,” especially during the leadership of former Prime Minister Matteo Renzi, which led her to quit the Democratic Party nearly a decade ago.She would reintroduce labor protections, tax the rich, reconnect with trade unions, invest in a greener economy and push for gay and immigrant rights. This week, she visited the site of a deadly shipwreck of migrants in Calabria and effectively interrogated Ms. Meloni’s interior minister for appearing to blame the victims.“Rights, civil rights and social rights, for us are strictly interconnected,” she said in the interview, adding, “The left lost in the moment it became shy on these issues.”One major change on her agenda is to put her party in a position to win elections by making alliances with partners who agreed on critical progressive issues, such as the support of a universal income.“Five Star, of course,” she said. “They have a lot of support.”But Giuseppe Conte, the leader of Five Star, which has demonstrated a strong illiberal streak over recent years, was the prime minister who signed off on the crackdown of migrant rescue ships at sea. He has emerged as Italy’s main opponent to Ms. Meloni’s vow to keep sending weapons to Ukraine.Ms. Schlein with her assistant in her temporary office at the party headquarters in Rome.Massimo Berruti for The New York TimesFive Star’s position on Ukraine, Ms. Schlein said, “I don’t agree on.” She described her party as wholly supportive of Ukraine against the “criminal invasion” by Russia and noted it had voted to send arms over the next year, because “it’s necessary now.”Supporters of Ukraine, however, worry about Ms. Schlein’s ongoing commitment because of her talk of being a “pacifist” and what some consider her naïve argument that Europe somehow needed to convince China to force Russia to end the war.But she said she feels a personal connection to Ukraine. Her grandfather was from Ukraine, she said, and after he emigrated to the United States, eventually settling in Elizabeth, N.J., his family back home was almost certainly wiped out in the Holocaust. Her Italian grandfather, who eventually became a Socialist lawmaker, refused to wear the “black shirts of the Fascists” during his graduation and “was an antifascist lawyer” who, she said, would “defend Jews in trials.”That family history has made her keenly sensitive to “what nationalism has brought to the European continent,” she said, adding, with a reference to the Russian president, “This war is a nationalist war from Putin.”Ms. Schlein was herself not raised Jewish, though she called herself “particularly proud” of her Jewish ancestry. In a friendly interview during the campaign, she told an Italian website that her last name and pronounced nose, what she considers her defining physical feature, attracted odious anti-Semitic attacks. But, she noted, the nose was not Jewish, but “typically Etruscan.”The Colosseum lit up in the colors of the Ukrainian flag, in Rome, in February. Ms. Schlein described her party as wholly supportive of Ukraine against the “criminal invasion” by Russia.Roberto Monaldo/LaPresse, via Associated PressAsked about that comment, Ms. Schlein’s verbosity stalled. “I wouldn’t go back to that,” she said. “No, thanks.” When pressed on what an Etruscan nose looked like, she threw her hands up and acknowledged, “They don’t even exist!”The point, she said, was that she learned that being a “woman,” and “an L.G.B.T.Q.I.+ person” and “very proudly the daughter of a Jewish father” made her a prime target “from the extreme right or also from my extreme left sometimes.” Ms. Schlein declined in the interview to discuss her family or her partner in further detail.Ms. Schlein said addressing such injustices drew her into politics. A star pupil in her Lugano high school, she said, she wanted to take her talents to Italy, “because I’ve always felt that this country, the country of my mother, has strong potential that only needs to be freed.”She went to art school in Bologna. Then she dropped film for law and went from campus politics to the real thing — making powerful friends, gaining fluency in social media and doing stints in the European and Italian Parliaments along the way. When she quit the Democratic Party to protest the loss of its liberal way, she supported a movement to “occupy” the party.Now she occupies the leadership headquarters near the Spanish Steps, and after a short walk toward Ms. Meloni’s palace, Ms. Schlein, the progressive no one saw coming, entertained taking that place over, too.“Well,” she said. “We’ll see.” More

  • in

    ‘Different From the Other Southerners’: Jimmy Carter’s Relationship With Black America

    How a white politician from the South who once supported segregationist policies eventually won the enduring support of Black voters.ATLANTA — Without Black voters, there would have been no President Jimmy Carter.In 1976, African Americans catapulted the underdog Democrat to the White House with 83 percent support. Four years later, they stuck by him, delivering nearly identical numbers even as many white voters abandoned him in favor of his victorious Republican challenger, Ronald Reagan.This enduring Black support for Mr. Carter illuminates two intertwined and epochal American stories, each of them powered by themes of pragmatism and redemption. One is the story of a white Georgia politician who began his quest for power in the Jim Crow South — a man who, as late as 1970, declared his respect for the arch-segregationist George Wallace in an effort to attract white votes, but whose personal convictions and political ambitions later pushed him to try to change the racist environment in which he had been raised.The other is the story of a historically oppressed people flexing their growing electoral muscle after the landmark Voting Rights Act of 1965 removed obstacles to the ballot box. Certainly, for some Black voters, candidate Carter was simply the least bad option. But for others, the elections of 1976 and 1980 were an opportunity to take the measure of this changing white man, recognizing the opportunity he presented, and even his better angels.“His example in Georgia as a representative of the New South, as one of the new governors from the South, was exciting, and it was appealing,” said Representative Sanford Bishop, a Democrat whose Georgia congressional district includes Mr. Carter’s home. “It carried the day in terms of people wanting a fresh moral face for the presidency.”Mr. Carter’s support for Black Americans sheds light on the political evolution of the man, who at 98, is America’s longest living president. (Mr. Carter entered hospice care earlier this month.)Mr. Carter at an event in Georgia during the fall 1976 presidential campaign.Guy DeLort/WWD, via Penske Media, via Getty ImagesMr. Carter greeting supporters in New York City in 1976.Mikki Ansin/Getty ImagesThe foundation of his relationships with Black voters and leaders was built in his home base of Plains, in rural Sumter County, Ga. Its Black residents can recall his efforts to maintain and then later resist the racist policies and practices that targeted the majority Black community.Jonathan Alter, in his 2020 biography “His Very Best: Jimmy Carter, a Life,” noted that Mr. Carter, as a school board member, had made a number of moves to accommodate or uphold the local segregationist system of the 1950s, at one point trying to shift resources from Black schools to white schools in the name of sound fiscal management.But Bobby Fuse, 71, a longtime civil rights activist who grew up in Americus, Ga., a few miles from Plains, recalled that Mr. Carter had also shown moments of real character. Among other things, he noted Mr. Carter’s objection to his Baptist church’s refusal to allow Black people to worship there.“I wouldn’t have voted for anybody running against Jimmy Carter, more than likely,” said Mr. Fuse, who said he had first voted for Mr. Carter in his successful 1970 governor’s race. “Because I knew him to be an upright man different from the other Southerners.”There were seeds of this difference early in the life of Mr. Carter. But as a young politician, it did not always translate into action. And the repressive environment of the mid-20th century meant that he had no Black voters to woo when he started his first foray into electoral politics with a 1962 bid for a South Georgia State Senate seat. Due to racist restrictions, hardly any Black people were registered to vote in his district at the time.Mr. Carter waved to the crowd as he and his wife, Rosalynn, arrived at Plains Baptist Church to attend services in 1976.Associated PressPresident Barack Obama and his wife, Michelle, with former President Bill Clinton and Mr. Carter at a ceremony commemorating the 50th anniversary of the 1963 March on Washington.Doug Mills/The New York TimesHistorians say that Mr. Carter, early in his career, was both a creature and a critic of the strict segregationist system he had been born into. He largely kept his head down as civil rights advocates fought and sacrificed to change the status quo, with serious, and sometimes dangerous, protests and crackdowns flaring up in Sumter County.Later, once he had achieved positions of power, he was outspoken about renouncing racial discrimination, seeking means to redress it and trying to live up to those principles. During his presidency, he famously enrolled his daughter, Amy, in a public school in Washington, D.C. Decades after leaving the White House, he offered a full-throated rebuke of Barack Obama’s Republican critics, calling their attacks racism loosely disguised as partisanship during his presidency.“He saw his role as an elder statesman,” said Andra Gillespie, an associate professor of political science at Emory University. “The fact that you have an elderly white president, from the South, who is there saying, ‘Look, the emperor has no clothes; that argument has no weight; that dog won’t hunt,’ is something that he didn’t necessarily have to do.”Mr. Carter had grown up with Black playmates in the tiny community of Archery, Ga. As a boy, his moral and spiritual north star had been a Black woman, Rachel Clark, the wife of a worker on the Carter property. He slept many nights on the floor of her home when his parents were out of town. Mr. Alter, the biographer,  wrote that she had taught him about nature and had impressed him with her selflessness. Mr. Alter wrote that Mr. Carter had even been teased in his all-white elementary school for “sounding Black.”Traffic in Warm Springs, Ga., as visitors arrived to hear Mr. Carter speak in 1976.Gary Settle/The New York TimesRachel Clark, the wife of a worker on the Carter family’s farm, whom Mr. Carter credited with teaching him morals.National Park ServiceBy the mid-1950s, Mr. Carter returned from a stint as a naval officer and settled in Plains, where he built on the family’s successful peanut business. The Brown v. Board of Education decision, which dismantled the old separate-but-equal regime for American schools, had inflamed white Southerners. Despite his efforts to appease white parents while on the school board, he was also, Mr. Alter notes, “the only prominent white man in Plains” who declined to join the local chapter of the racist White Citizens’ Council.After winning his 1962 State Senate race, Mr. Carter, a man of searing ambition, set his sights on the governor’s mansion but was defeated in 1966. He ran again and won in 1970, with a campaign full of unsubtle dog whistles to aggrieved white voters that included promises to restore “law and order” to their communities and, according to Mr. Alter, the dissemination of a “fact sheet” that reminded white voters that Mr. Carter’s Democratic opponent, former Gov. Carl Sanders, had attended Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s funeral.In the Democratic primary, Black voters took notice: Mr. Sanders, in the runoff, garnered roughly 90 percent of their votes. But by the general election, Mr. Carter was campaigning heavily in Black churches.The dog-whistle strategy had generated its share of bitterness and criticism. But a course correction followed, in the form of Mr. Carter’s inaugural address.“The time for racial discrimination is over,” he said.Mr. Carter’s supporters at the Democratic convention.H. Christoph/Ullstein Bild, via Getty ImagesMembers of the Concord Baptist Church congregation listening to Mr. Carter speaking in Brooklyn in 1980.Don Hogan Charles/The New York Times“It was really dramatic for all of us, because he said it in that forum, as he was being sworn in,” Mr. Fuse recalled. “And hopefully we were going to see some activity from that.”They did. Mr. Carter expanded the presence of Black Georgians in state government, from senior officials to state troopers, and welcomed civil rights leaders to the governor’s office.Black skeptics were converted into allies in other ways. In an interview this week, Andrew Young, the civil rights leader who would serve as ambassador to the United Nations under Mr. Carter, recalled having “a real prejudice to overcome” when the two men first met as Mr. Carter was running for governor.When the matter of Fred Chappell, Sumter County’s notoriously racist sheriff, came up, Mr. Carter called him a “good friend.” Mr. Young was taken aback: Mr. Chappell had once arrested Dr. King after a protest. When Dr. King’s associates tried to bring him blankets to ward off the cold, Mr. Chappell refused them and turned on the fan instead.Later, however, Mr. Young said he had gotten to know Mr. Carter’s family, including his mother, Lillian. Mr. Young, too, came to trust him. “I decided that he was always all right on race,” Mr. Young said. “He never discriminated between his Black friends and white friends.”Mr. Carter, as president, meeting in 1977 with his commission for the appointment of Black Americans to the federal judiciary in the Fifth Circuit.Harvey Georges/Associated PressAndrew Young, right, campaigning for Mr. Carter in Boston in 1976.Mikki Ansin/Getty ImagesIt went the same way with other influential civil rights leaders in Georgia, including Dr. King’s widow, Coretta Scott King, and his father, Martin Luther King Sr. According to the author and journalist Kandy Stroud, the elder Mr. King sent a telegram to voters lauding Mr. Carter’s appointment of Black judges and his support for a fair housing law, among other things. “I know a man I can trust, Blacks can trust, and that man is Jimmy Carter,” he wrote.By the time Mr. Carter started his 1976 bid for the White House, it was these leaders who spread the message beyond Georgia voters that Mr. Carter was worthy of their trust. They helped bolster the “peanut brigade,” the nickname for the team of staff members and volunteers spread across the country to campaign for him, making it a mix of Black and white Carter supporters.“They had to tell these people in the rest of the country, ‘Yeah, he’s governor of Georgia, but he’s a different kind of governor of Georgia,’” Mr. Fuse said.In a recent interview, the Rev. Al Sharpton recalled that the King family had lobbied him to support Mr. Carter in 1976. That went a long way, he said, but so did Mr. Carter’s presentation. “A Southern guy that would stand up and talk about racism?” he said. “This was the kind of guy that my uncle trusted down South. And he connected with us for that.”As a presidential candidate, however, Mr. Carter again showed his propensity for trying to have it both ways in a racially divided country.George Skelton, a Los Angeles Times columnist, recently recalled covering the candidate as he campaigned in Wisconsin and watching as he seemed to give contradictory messages on school busing to separate groups of Black and white voters within the span of a single day.Mrs. Coretta King accepting the Presidential Medal on behalf of her late husband, Dr. Martin Luther King, in 1977.Associated PressMr. Carter, second from right, shaking hands with Black seniors at the Watts Labor Community Action Council in Los Angeles, in 1976.Reed Saxon/Associated PressAnd in a speech about protecting neighborhoods, Mr. Carter used the phrase “ethnic purity,” creating a mini-scandal. Soon after, Mr. Young told him that the use of the phrase had been a “disaster for the campaign.” Mr. Carter issued an apology.But Mr. Carter also found common cultural ground with Black voters nationwide, many of whom shared his Christian faith. They saw how comfortable he was in Black churches. “‘Born again’ is the secret of his success with Blacks,” Ethel Allen, a Black surgeon from Philadelphia, told Ms. Stroud at the time.As president, Mr. Carter sought “to mend the racial divide,” said Kai Bird, another Carter biographer. Mr. Bird noted that food aid was significantly expanded under Mr. Carter, benefiting many poor Black residents in rural areas. Mr. Bird also noted that the Carter administration had toughened rules aimed at preventing racially discriminatory schools from claiming tax-exempt status.If that explains why Black voters stuck with Mr. Carter in 1980, it may have also sown the seeds of his defeat. “I think all of these decisions were too much for white America,” Mr. Bird said. “Ronald Reagan came along and appealed much more to white voters.”Mr. Fuse agrees. All these years later, he still laments the fact that Mr. Carter was denied a second term. Instead of focusing on the problems that plagued Mr. Carter’s time in office — the inflation, the energy crisis, the American hostages stuck in Tehran — Mr. Fuse spoke, instead, about that hope that Mr. Carter had engendered in 1976, and not just for Black voters.“When this white man comes along who’s grinning with a broad smile after Watergate, he lifted our spirits,” Mr. Fuse said. “He lifted everybody’s spirits.” More